


Time and Again

by Take_my_hand



Series: Time and Poppies [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 21:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12517412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Take_my_hand/pseuds/Take_my_hand
Summary: A teenager hits his head and falls back in time, four years before the outbreak of the Great War.  Along with his best friend he must survive the horrors of a war that had quickly gotten out of control.  Oh and btw my brain twin, you know who you are, this is yours thanks for letting me squee about things.





	1. I'm From the Future

**Author's Note:**

> The war is based on World War I but there may be some differences.

“What do you mean you aren’t from here?” Oliver demanded crouching next to Jay in the mud at the bottom of the trench. Jay shook his head once before burying his face in his dirty uniform, ignoring the way his helmet hit his arms, not wanting to look at his friend. Above them a shell screamed across the trench to land somewhere else with only a scattering of dirt and the screams of men who were caught in the blast to mark its landing.  
“None of us are from here.” Oliver continued after a moments pause, ignoring the haunted gazes that were directed at them from the others in their company.  
“I know that.” Jay said morosely, “It’s complicated Olie.” He lifted his head to meet Oliver’s eyes solidly.  
“Then why are you telling me now?” Oliver asked, “We are not exactly in the best place to have…” he trailed off glancing around before lowering his voice to finish. “Something go wrong.”  
Jay closed his eyes, knowing what Oliver was talking about – shellshock- once Oliver had been a cheerful boy who tended to move his hands wildly when speaking not even for years ago and laughed easily. He’d befriended Jay at school when Jay had been time-disoriented without friends or family he could claim and a dubious grasp on the events he’d landed ahead of. Oliver had dragged Jay home with him over the holidays where his family had welcomed Jay with the same friendly warmth, although more restrained. They had quickly adopted him over the holidays, sending him letters and packages just like Oliver when both returned back to school. The two had become joined at the hip, so when war was declared the summer before their first year of University, and Oliver enlisted in the army, despite the churning in Jay’s gut, the photos seen a long time in the future, and the memories of vaguely remembered numbers far too large to really comprehend, he’d quietly followed his outgoing friend into the army. Oliver’s family had been supportive of them joining although his mother had worried about them, and part of Jay had screamed at them silently because they didn’t know what they were letting the two of them go to. Before he’d left, he’d given Oliver’s mother two letters, one to open on the event of his death with the truth of his background and instructions on how to send the other letter into the future so that his family would know what happened to him.  
“Is there a problem boys?” The lieutenant asked, moving closer to the two of them in a crouch.  
“We are fine sir.” Oliver said, shooting Jay a look. Jay wanted to laugh but nodded in agreement. The lieutenant was new, less than a week in the trenches, his bars not yet fully stained by the grime of war. Common consent among the men was he wouldn’t las more than a month and none of them tried to care to much about him. 

“Good to know.” The lieutenant said nodding once and moved on down the trench to talk to some of the other men.  
“Pity he won’t last long.” Oliver said, eyes unreadable as they followed their C.O. The comment reminded Jay of the reason he’d decided to spill one of his two darkest secrets and he felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold of the trench and everything to do with the fact that he probably wouldn’t make it home alive. He sighed leaning against the wall of the trench as he tried to figure out how to tell Oliver the truth.  
“None of us are going to last long Ollie.” He said finally, defeat written in every line of his body.  
“What do you mean?” Oliver asked and Jay laughed hysterically.  
“Because this next offense is going to be bloody.” He said. “Bloodier then anything we’ve experienced before. And long, long, long, long and..” he bit his toungue to stop the next words from spilling out of his mouth at a great volume. Tugging a shocked Oliver close, he hissed in his ear.  
“It won’t work, nothing will be gained, nothing will be lost. More than one million men will be lost for nothing.” He leaned back, still laughing hysterically ignoring the looks he was getting.  
“How do you know that?” Oliver asked, pulling Jay closer to his body in an attempt to shield and warm him and Jay pressed his face into Oliver’s muddy, bloody uniformed shoulder, still giggling madly.  
“Because,” he whispered feeling a little drunk and a little high, the relief of telling Oliver combining with the stress and tension of trench warfare into a heady cocktail of emotions. “I’m from the future.”


	2. Dear Chandra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short.

“Alright,” Oliver said agreeably, “You’re from the future.”  
Jay started to nod but frowned -he recognized Oliver’s tone, it was the one he used when speaking to someone who was clearly suffering from shell shock, calm and soothing but careful oh so careful that it set Jay’s teeth on edge.  
“You don’t believe me!” he accused moving to get up, forgetting in his distress where they were – and wasn’t that something he actually forgot that he was in a trench so far from home- but Oliver snagged him and dragged him down just before a bullet whizzed through the air where his head had been.  
“What are you doing Jay?” Oliver demanded, the fear in his eyes stronger then it’d been in a long time.  
“Please tell me you haven’t snapped.” He continued in a lower voice but before he could continue the lieutenant was back followed by some of their company all waking crouched down to avoid snipers.  
“Time to get some sleep,” the lieutenant said quietly before asking with a wary glance at Jay. “Are you sure he’s alright?”  
It was only then that Jay realized he was still laughing hysterically, his whole body shaking with the giggles and he heard himself as if through a cloud.  
“He’s fine sir.” Oliver said, tightening his grip on Jay’s arm.  
“Well, hurry up then.” The lieutenant snapped before moving on to inform the others.  
That night, in the relatively safety of the bunks in the dim light of the candles Jay opened his notebook that had been his journal through his entire journey. It had grown from the original notebook and was in it’s third book. The first two volumes were with Oliver’s parents along with instructions on what to do with them if(when) he didn’t return. He wrote the date with shaking hands before looking to the nearby bunk where Oliver was sprawled reading a book his mother had sent him. Oliver looked up after a moment and their eyes met, gazes held for what seemed like an eternity before Jay dropped his gaze grateful for the bad light that hid his blush in the shadows.  
“Dear Chandra,” he wrote finally, he’d started the journal as series of letters to hi solder sister who was a historian like their father and like Jay wanted to be. He had to be careful writing in his journal not knowing if it would be read before it got to her and he didn’t want to bring any trouble to Oliver or himself if it got into the wrong hands.  
“I told him today,” he wrote finally, “It didn’t go like I’d hoped and I ended up looking like a fool because I kind of lost it and not in a good way. (On a side note is there a good way of losing it?) I don’t blame him, it is pretty impossible to believe but after all this time you’d think that he’d trust me.” He continued to write until the light was blown out before quickly slipping into sleep. The next day started with a bombardment from the enemy that had them all ducking for cover as dust rained down on them, trying to return fire. The last thing he remembered was the screaming of a shell way to close, an explosion to his right and something that made his arm burn.


	3. Some Shrapnel

When he woke up, he didn’t know where he was, he wasn’t on the ground of a trench the sky was a white and it smelled cleaner then he’d smelled in a long time. He attempted to sit up, unnerved by the sounds he was hearing and the smells.

“Don’t move!” someone said and there were hands forcing him down.

“The others!” he said, as he realized that he was far from the trenches. “I have to go back to the others!”

“Not now,” the voice said again, “You are injured and need to relax.”

It was then that he realized his arm was hurting and he glanced down to see a white bandage wrapped around it.

“What happened?” he asked faintly, leaning back into the bed as his arm continued to throb in pain.

“You caught some shrapnel. You’ll be good to go rejoin your unit in a few weeks depending on how well your arm heals.”

Jay nodded before sitting up again in panic.

“The others,” he repeated, twisting to try and see the speaker. “What happened to the others?” Oliver, Oliver where are you? His body sang, fear settling deep into the marrow of his bones.

“I will see if I can find out.” The speaker turned out to be a young doctor looking worn down and impatient to move on to other patients. “Now if you will just calm down, I have other patients I need to see.”

Jay took a deep breath, trying to fight the panic that ran helter-skelter through his veins.

“Excuse me Doctor,” A nurse said, “We need your help with Mr. Ledds.”

The doctor sighted but nodded starting to move away from the bed Jay was lying in, he looked down and said. “I will be right back, please do not cause any trouble.” He waited a moment for Jay to nod his agreement before leaving the side of Jay’s bed. The nurse bustled over, placing a cool hand on his forehead to check his temperature and offered him a kind but tiered smile.

“How are you feeling?” she asked as she moved down to his arm to check his bandages.

“I’m in pain.” Jay said, “And I want to know what happened to my company.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” The nurse said. “Just rest and heal so you can join them again.”

The next time Jay opened his eyes he was momentarily disoriented before remembering that he was in a hospital. Around him, he could hear moans and groans from patients around him who were in pain as well as the soft voices of medical staff and their footsteps as they moved from bed to bed checking on patients. He tried to remain calm and relaxed even as his body reminded him exactly why he was there instead of at the front.

“You’re awake.” A nurse said, going to his side doing things that he assumed were connected with seeing how he was healing.

“You have a visitor.” Jay blinked surprised, and struggled to sit up. He couldn’t think of anyone who would visit him since all the people he was close to didn’t have any leave coming up until after the next big push which meant that they wouldn’t have any excuse to visit him without being considered deserters.

“Calm down,” the nurse said, “I won’t let him in unless you promise to stay calm. I don’t want you disturbing the patients or popping your stitches.”

“I promise,” Jay said through dry lips. “May I have some water please?”

“I’ll get you some when I show him in.” she said, “Now don’t move.”

Jay nodded weakly as he watched her leave he was suddenly struck by a fear that whoever walked through the doors would come bearing bad news, news that would break the weak grasp he had on his sanity and he would never get home. He’d either be kept in an asylum or taken out back and shot and he’d never see his family again, never get to introduce them to Oliver, never get to see his own timeline where he could be himself without hiding anything. He dropped his gaze to study the white sheets so he wouldn’t see his visitor until the very last moment.

“Barrett?” a hesitant voice asked, and he looked up stunned to see Michael Scott. Michael had been a scholarship classmate of Oliver and Jay’s, he had also joined the war, although he’d joined the enlisted men of his hometown and both had lost contact with him.

“Scott.” Jay said and the surprise in his voice shocked him. “What are you doing here?”

Michael grinned, reminding Jay so much of his past self that it was only with that smile did Jay realize Michael had changed so much.

“My unit got stationed next to yours.” He said, “To bolster numbers while you guys are waiting for reinforcements. I was only there for a day before heading out for leave, however the night before Oliver came and found me.”

Something in Jay’s chest unknotted at the news that Oliver had survived the bombardment even if he couldn’t help but wonder at how bad they were hit if another unit was sent in as reinforcements. “How bad?” he asked blinking when Michael looked at him curiously. “How bad were the losses?” he repeated.

“I don’t know.” Michael said softly, “I wasn’t told, but Oliver found me and he had a stack of letters with him. Apparently, he’d been looking for someone who was going on leave and could get them to you.” Jay felt his cheeks warm, touched by the effort Oliver had went through to get him letters.

“Here you go, letters for you courtesy of the Michael Scott mail carrier.” Michael said handing him a stack of letters that had been tied together with twine.

“Thanks,” Jay said accepting the letters and shaking Michaels hand.

“How has life been treating you?” He asked, curious to find out how Michael had fared through the war-he’d lost contact with several of his schoolmates, heard news that others had died or been seriously injured and that one of them had died during the first gas attacks of the war. It was something that haunted him because he could have told them about the attacks and the measures to take against them. Michael shrugged, clearly unwilling to talk about the war in a hospital because he said instead.

“My sister’s joined the V.A.D.” Jay raised an eyebrow surprised.

“Apparently mother wanted her to join the nursing corps and stay closer to home but you know how Sarah is.”

Jay did know, Michael’s sister was well known in the dorms for her ability to do what she wanted and damn the consequences, and she had become something of a long-standing joke. The others had tried to get him to join but he could only listen with a sense of homesickness and often found himself thinking that Sarah and Lakshmi would get along like a house on fire.

“How is she doing?” Jay asked, and Michael shrugged.

“As well as she can.”

The ‘given the way the war is being fought’ went unsaid and Jay nodded. Michael stayed for a while longer, walking to Jay about different things in an attempt to take his mind off the pain and frustration of being stuck in a hospital while his comrades were stuck on the front lines fighting, bleeding, dying. Finally when a nurse came over to gently let Michael know that visiting hours were over, Michael stood up and murmured in Jay’s ear. “Get better soon, Oliver misses you. He looks like a shadow without you.” Jay nodded and reached out to grasp Michael in a tight arm embrace.

“Take care,” he said softly, Michael nodded and left the room. Jay watched his friend walk away and quietly murmured a prayer to Vishnu asking him to watch over Michael and keep him safe. After dinner-which was better than he’d eaten since his last leave, Jay took the stack of letters from next to his legs where he’d put them and stared at his name on each of them. He flipped through them, mentally checking off the names of his company as he found a letter from them. There was no letter from the new lieutenant and while that could have been from his desire to not write to an enlisted man, Jay personally thought it was more likely that he had died. He finally found Oliver’s letter and let out a quiet breath he hadn’t know he’d been holding. It wasn’t anything special just his name on the cover but it was in Oliver’s distinctive handwriting and Jay already knew he’d cherish it for whatever time he had left. He started to open the envelope but paused to look down at his shaking hands and set it aside to open a letter from David Kearn who had been in the unit and the war the longest after Oliver and Jay.

_**May 30th, 1916 Hellfire Corner** _

_Dear Jay,_

_I’m writing this because Oliver found paper and envelopes and forced everyone to write you. He looked wild-eyed like something from deeper in the pit than we are already. We were relieved to hear that you would survive and make it back to us. Oh who am I kidding, the first part of that sentence is true but not the last. Actually the last is true also because if you’d gone home with a blighty one I’m pretty sure Oliver’d have snapped. I actually don’t know what to write, like I said Oliver kind of forced us to write you. I’m not sure if you have read any other letters but I’m pretty sure Oliver scared the greenies more then the war has. So hurry back quickly because we can’t have them being more afraid of a comrade then of the shells and bullets. What a thing to write, you can burn this if you want. Actually please burn this, I don’t want Oliver to find this because he really will kill me. All joking aside you don’t want to know what happened after you got hit, I’d say I haven’t seen like it but this is war. Oliver lost it, it took three of us to hold him down because he was about to jump up and get himself killed trying to get to you. It was only when Peter crawled over to you and found out that you were alive that Oliver started to calm down and after the shelling had stopped and medics had carried you away he shut down. When we were allowed back to our quarters, I had to lead him part of the way there and when he finally partially snapped out of it he went to your bunk and laid down. I don’t know what happened next, but he was reading something he’d hound in your bunk the next day he was really quiet until we were back when he snapped and forced us to write letters. I don’t know what he read and he won’t speak except when it’s absolutely necessary. So I’m reiterating my plea for you to come back and snap him out of whatever mood he’s in. I feel guilty for writing this but I don’t want to lose Oliver, I’ll keep an eye on him but we are in a war._

_Get better, David_

Jay stared at the shaking letter in his hands, his mind flying through a list of the items he had in his bunk that Oliver could have read. Really, the only things he could think of that would have any effect on Oliver were his collection of letters from home that Oliver’s family had written him or his journal. Jay turned attention to Oliver’s partially opened letter as dread curled in the pit of his stomach, Oliver wouldn’t have read his journal, would he? But according to David, Oliver hadn’t been in his right mind after he’d been injured. What had Oliver read? Jay wondered before he finished opening the letter as the need to find out what exactly was going through his best friends mind became stronger.

**_May 30th, 1916 Right where you left me_ **

_Jay,_

_I read your journal, I’m sorry I did but at the same time I’m not. I needed to figure out when you snapped because that last conversation is still running through my head. Your journal is an interesting read, it manages to sound just like you and yet I have to wonder who are you writing to? The name Chandra sounds foreign and you go into details that I was surprised you would add. You’ve also never mentioned a Chandra so why would you write to her when you never send or receive letters from that name. Reading your journal makes me feel like I don’t really know you. Please get better soon, I miss you and I don’t think I can survive without you by my side. I know that sounds like something that I dare not say because it is illegal but it’s the truth._

_Oliver_

_Post Script: I lied about my reasons for reading your journal, I might die and I don’t want to die with you believing a lie. I read it so I could try being close to you. It sounds stupid but I really didn’t react well when you got hit. I write this in a purely friendship way, like brothers. I might have gone overboard with getting the others to write to you but I didn’t want you to be lonely and mail to and from the home front is slow. You are also hiding something, I don’t know what it is but there is a gap in your words will you tell me what it is when you come home?_

Jay stared at the letter disbelief warring with hope in his heart. A large part of him was angry that Oliver had read his journal because it was not written for him but his sister and people who were interested in the Great War. _There is a reason why you don’t know about Chandra Ollie._ Jay thought as he stared at the letter in his hands. His eyes caught the last line again and winced, he hadn’t really thought that his sidestepping of the true extent of his feelings for Oliver would leave a big enough gap that his friend would pick up on. _Oh jaanu,_ he thought, using a Hindi word for darling, something that he’d been using in his mind ever since he’d woken up one night two years into his stay in the past and realized that Oliver was the only one for him no matter how Oliver felt. _You get my hopes up and break my heart ‘just brothers’ is that really how you feel?_

He closed his eyes for a moment before opening his other letters and quietly read until it was time to sleep.


	4. One bite at a time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I use the word bint in this as slang for girl, I couldn't find a WWI era slang for girl anywhere but if anyone knows one let me know.

The next few weeks were long, for the most part boring, and tense. He’d begged for some paper and continued to write in his journal despite objections by his doctor but he couldn’t spend all day writing about one day and there was only so much he could describe in the wing without repeating himself. Jay was healing well according to the doctors although he would always bear the long shrapnel scar on his arm. A few people he knew stopped by to visit him and each time they visited he would always be tense waiting for them to tell him that something had happened to Oliver. Finally, he was discharged with instructions to report to his unit, just in time for the biggest bloodiest offensive of the war that would happen in only a few weeks according to his mental list of history. He quickly made his way back to the front catching a ride with a group of fresh recruits also heading to the front, his pulse hammering in his veins a tattoo that sounded a lot like Oliver’s name. When he got back to the trenches where his unit was stationed, he was greeted by more haunted faces that he didn’t know then familiar ones and he couldn’t help the chill that crept over his body as he moved slowly searching for a commanding officer to report to. The day was over cast, and the light from guns on both side lit up the area in an eerie light. He could see No Mans land laying between their trench and the enemies a ghostly place tangled in barbed wire and holes that would sometimes erupt as shells missed their target and landed in between. Those that didn’t miss landed with all the chaos that accompanied it, and snipers from both sides took shots as if just to remind the other side that they were still there even if they didn’t hit anyone.  
“Jay!” someone called as a group that he’d been trying to make his way through parted to let David come forward to grasp Jay in a tight hug. “Thank God you are back.” He hissed in Jay’s ear.  
“Oliver’s been unreasonable, I’m worried he’s going to do something stupid.”  
Jay clung to David for a moment before pulling back.  
“Who’s our C.O.? I need to let them know I’m back.” He asked mostly for the benefit of the listeners because David was an old hand at coming back from being injured and or on leave and so knew what to do, also to get his shock under control. David was a fan of nicknames and usually called Oliver Ollie like Jay did, for him to use Oliver’s full name meant he was either annoyed or worried – or as was most likely the case here both.  
“I’ll show you, we’ve managed to hold on to our C.O. so he should remember you.” David said, and Jay raised an eyebrow surprised.  
“Really,” he drawled, “Color me surprised.” He tried not to fidget under the stares of the dirty, haunted, exhausted men, and followed David towards the lieutenant.  
“I’m just surprised as you.” David agreed as he lead the way. “However, I’m so glad you’re back.”  
“You said that.” Jay said, “Has it really been that bad?”  
“He won’t stop talking about some bint named Chandra. Keeps asking us if we’ve heard of her.”  
Jay winced, startled that Oliver would ask about Chandra. Why does not knowing who Chandra is bother him? 

“Do you know her?” David asked having caught the wince.  
“I do,” Jay said, “I’ve been writing to her every single day, Oliver read my letters.”  
“Well no wonder he’s been off.” David said nodding regally making Jay laugh. “He doesn’t like you keeping secrets from him. Who is she? She sounds foreign.”  
“It’s complicated.” He said after a moment of trying to come up with a lie. “I don’t want to talk about it.”  
David shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, “but Oliver isn’t going to let it rest at that. He’s already going to be hurt you haven’t told him about Chandra.”  
Jay sighed, “I’ll think of something to tell him.” He promised his friend.  
“Good, I’m so close to killing him.” David replied, and although Jay knew that David was joking he also realized how much Oliver had annoyed the usual easy-going (for a soldier) man. A shell whistled high above them and the gas alarms sounded high and clear.  
Welcome home Jay thought resigned as he pulled out his gas mask and put it on with surprisingly steady hands. David had put on his own gas mask and together they turned to help the others around them all of whom looked like they were about to bolt or had frozen in fear.  
“Looks like the Jerries know you’re back.” David commented as he helped put a gas mask over one of the soldiers who had frozen, Jay quietly followed his lead. The men looked newer to the trenches and he could still remember in startling clarity his first gas attack, it had been scary even though he’d known what to expect.  
“What makes you say that?” he asked from inside his small box respirator, which would protect him from most of the effects of the attack, trying to keep his breathing steady as a sense of claustrophobia set in.  
“This is the first gas attack in a while.” David said dryly and Jay laughed although it had a slightly maniacal tinge to it. He turned to a soldier near him who looked like he was about to have a panic attack as the tell-tale yellow green smoke drifted across the top of the trench and down to great the standing soldiers.  
“Deep breaths,” he advised the soldier, checking the mask on the soldiers to make sure it was on properly to do the most good. “Your mask’ll keep the gas out.” He tried to sound reassuring but judging by the wild-eyed look he got however, he had failed.  
“Come on,” David sighed “We should really let the lieutenant know you’re here.”  
Jay nodded but before they could continue someone started to scream, turning the two of them pushed their way towards the sound. There was a cluster of gas masked men standing around like eerie statues a soldier who was writhing and gagging from the gas.  
“Get some stretcher bearers,” Jay ordered, and either it was the tone in his voice or someone knowing what to do men obeyed and after a long time the group parted to let the masked stretcher bearers through. As the fallen man was loaded on the stretcher Jay sank to the ground, his back pressed against the dirt wall of the trench ignoring the way his clothes were getting dirty already.  
“Excuse me sir.” A voice said from his left and he turned to see the soldier he’d spoken to before.  
“Yes?” he asked, looking around for David but he was talking with one of the soldiers, a hand on his shoulder.  
“Will he survive?”  
Jay sighed and closed his eyes for a brief moment, images of boys dead in gas attacks, men dead from sniper bullets and shells flashing before his eyes.  
“He might.” Jay said finally, “They’ll try to save him, give him oxygen and bed rest.”  
“But he might not.” The kid said, he looked so young with his eyes wide behind the plastic eye holes of the gas mask, like he should be worrying about school and getting a significant other (even now, among the carnage his 21st century sensibilities showed) no whether the man who had been affected by the gas would live or not. He shouldn’t be worrying about his own life but living it without any cares.  
“That is true,” Jay agreed wishing he could rub his eyes. Not even fifteen minutes back and he was plunged straight back into hell watching as it dragged innocents down around him. It was a wonder that anyone survived the war, let alone with their sanity relatively intact.  
“How do you manage?” the kid asked, drawing him back from his thoughts.  
“What do you mean?” Jay asked looking at him sideways.  
“You know what to do, you were friendly with the Lance Corporal.” The kid explained meeting Jay’s eyes firmly and something in the clear blue eyes that reminded Jay of one of his best friends from the future both in the color and directness. “You have clearly been here before.”  
Jay sighed, closing his eyes again for a brief moment and wished once again that he was back home in his own time.  
“I just take it one day at a time.” He said finally, “Sometimes if that seems too hard I’ll take it one moment at a time. Just get through the moment and then the next that comes. Just make it through the bombardment…” he trailed off, remembering a phrase he’d heard his father use before.  
“Hey kid, how do you eat an elephant?” he asked. The kid who was looking dejectedly at the ground looked up and shrugged.  
“I don’t know.” He said and Jay wished he could smile at the kid just to cheer him up, but his mask prevented him. “One bite at a time kid. “ He said standing up as he saw David approach.  
“One bite at a time.”


	5. Over the Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haha! I did it, I can't believe it. I actually finished it.

“Come on Jay,” David said, eyes unreadable from behind the plastic eyepieces of his mask, eyes darting to the other soldier briefly before meeting Jay’s steadily. Jay nodded and clapped a hand on the kids shoulder in a vain attempt to give the kid more comfort. It didn’t work, but he figured as much since there was very little one could take comfort from in the war, and what brief snatches of comfort often faded quickly in the face of life. “Keep your head down and don’t get sloppy.” He advised, before following David through the zig-zagging maze of trenches, using the communication trench to get to the front line. A few minutes later the all-clear sounded and after a few more minutes Jay and David removed their masks. The relatively clean air bathed Jay’s face as he took a few deep breaths trying to clean his lungs from the stale air that he’d been breathing in, trying to free his face from the claustrophobic feeling of wearing the mask. They found the lieutenant talking quietly with a group of enlisted men, one of them looked up and a wave of relief crashed over him as he recognized Oliver. As if sensing Oliver’s change in focus the lieutenant looked up and gestured for the two to come closer.

“Jay Barrett reporting for duty sir.” Jay said snapping off a quick salute.

“Welcome back Mr. Barrett.” The lieutenant said returning the salute. Oliver smiled and headed over to them, once the formalities were done he wrapped Jay in a tight hug which Jay returned equally strongly. However, he frowned he got a better look at his friend. Oliver looked drawn and pale even under the mud from the trenches, his eyes were dead…deader than Jay had ever seen them before, the bags under his eyes were deeper and darker. Even Oliver’s smile, which he rewarded Jay when they parted, seemed to sit uneasily on his face.

“Why don’t you get settled in your bunk? I’m putting you on watch tonight.” The lieutenant suggested and all three quickly saluted.

“Mr. Godfrey, please stay behind I have some questions for you.”

“Come on,” Oliver said one of his hands twitching like he wanted to reach out and touch Jay but he restrained himself. Jay wished he could reach out and grab Oliver’s hand just to keep Oliver from twitching out of his skin and to prove to himself that he was back with Oliver, but he knew he couldn’t. Neither of them talked as they reached the spot where the bunkers had been dug into the ground and fortified with concrete.

“I saved your stuff.” Oliver commented from over where his bunk was.

“Thanks Ollie.” Jay said quietly, looking around the bunker and cataloging the differences that a few weeks had wrought.

“Weather been good?” Jay asked idly after a few moments of unnerving silence apart from the squeaking of rats that skittered around the floor before wincing. Talking about the weather? Really Barrett? He mentally scolded himself.

“It was alright, a few more bombardments so it was mostly re-digging trenches.” Oliver answered not turning away from where he was going through his belongings, not turning around to look at Jay. Jay nodded, he knew how it went, they were constantly digging to repair trenches that had been damaged by bombardments and when they weren’t digging to repair they were trying to keep the water out of the trenches often finding bodies of the dead while they dug. “Here,” Oliver said thrusting a bag with Jay’s name on it at him, still not meeting his eyes.

“We lost Private Alden yesterday to a sniper. Not entirely sure what the fool was thinking. You can have his bunk, he wasn’t here long enough to do any real settling in.” Jay accepted the bag and headed to the bunk Oliver pointed to, pausing as he mentally pulled up an image of the bunks occupant. “

Wasn’t this Charles’s bunk?” he asked, wanting to keep talking with Oliver even though he thought he knew the answer to the question he was going ask.

“What happened to him?”

“Blown up,” was the blunt reply, “Same attack that got you out of here.”

Jay winced, Charles had been newly married with a baby boy who’d been born shortly after he’d been deployed. He’d read all the letters his wife wrote aloud much to everyone’s (feigned) disgust. There had been a few comments about how Charles and Jay shared the same last name and nose, while Jay had laughed he’d also had to wonder if maybe they were related somehow. He planned on asking his dad if he ever got home but now, he was trying to figure out if should. It wouldn’t matter, not really, Charles was dead, his wife joined the ranks of war widows and even if Charles was still alive there was no way Jay would tell him about being a time traveler.

“What’s the matter Ollie?” Jay asked after a moment stretched long between them turning into several moments, turning to face his friends back.

“What do you mean?” Oliver returned sharply. You’re mad at me.” Jay said quietly feeling small. “I missed you and I thought you’d….”

“You lied to me.” Oliver interrupted harshly, spinning around to face Jay, eyes cold and harsh.

“What did I lie about?” Jay asked bewildered. “If you’re talking about the time travel thing…”

“No, not about the time travel thing. You told me you didn’t know anyone. But I find you’re writing to some Chandra.”

Understanding dawned on Jay, and he wanted to both laugh and scream as Oliver ducked his head to stare at the floor. David hadn’t been lying when he told Jay that Oliver was upset about Chandra. Jay sighed and walked over to his friend and laid a calming hand on Oliver’s tense shoulder.

“It’s complicated Ollie.” He said as soon as Oliver looked at him distrustfully although he hadn’t shook Jay’s hand off.

“Like if I tell the wrong person I’ll get locked up in an asylum or taken out back and shot complicated.”

“You don’t trust me?” Oliver asked wounded, some of the hardness in his eyes shifting into something more hurt.

“I trust you, jaanu.” Jay assured him, the endearment slipping out before he could stop it.

“I just don’t know how to explain it.”

“Just tell me.” Oliver grumbled then in a more accusing tone, “What did you call me?”

“Jaanu.” Jay said fighting to keep his blush down. “It’s a nickname.”

He sighed and whispered in Oliver’s ear. “Chandra’s my older sister, she’s still in the future so I technically didn’t know anyone here.”

When he had first met Oliver it was right after the head of the school had told him he was enrolled in the school, just moments after he’d woken up with a bad headache and a deep bone-deep sense of disorientation. He’d claimed that he’d been robbed to explain his headache and lack of belonging and discovered to his relief that there’d been a fund set up in his name. Apparently the school had thought he was a wealthy orphan-something he avoided thinking about incase he jinxed his parents.

“How? She sounds foreign…” Oliver began and Jay interrupted him before he could say something that pissed him off.

“I’m half Indian. My mom’s from New Delhi, she met my dad in college and fell in love.”

“You are part Indian.” Oliver said flatly, staring at Jay like he hadn’t seen Jay before. Before Jay could say anything else other soldiers filtered into the bunker effectively ending the conversation. Jay was stunned to see how much his unit had changed over the weeks he’d been away even though he knew he shouldn’t be. David looked between Jay and Oliver raised an eyebrow, tugged Jay over to a corner where he hissed.

“What did you do? He looks worse than before.” Jay looked over at Oliver who was talking with one of the soldiers he didn’t recognize and said quietly.

“I told him the truth, and he didn’t like it.”

 

That night as Jay stood sentry watching the darkened mess of ruined land that they called No-Man’s Land, he wished that things were different. He stood at a spot that he’d stood at before on countless other nights battling exhaustion, fear, tension and boredom in a long line stretching back months. When he’d learned about the Great War back in the future the two things he’d learned before the class had moved on to the Second World War was the cost of human lives and the stagnation. What he’d learned living through the Great War made what he learned pale in comparison. What he hadn’t realized when he signed up with Ollie was exactly what that stagnation meant in terms of boredom and even in casualty numbers, in terms of wet feet, rotten boots and food that if it had been served anywhere but in the trenches, would have been considered unfit for human consumption. The next day a bombardment of the enemy started, and when Jay consulted the dates and wracked his memory he realized that there was only a week and five more days before the next major offensive. The other thing that the next day there was a palpable tension between Jay and Oliver while the rest of the unit had taken to darting looks between them and David looked like he was just a moment away from demanding answers from both of them. Even their lieutenant looked seconds away from interfering although he never did anything either believing he didn’t have a right or that it would work its self out. One week later, and he’d been surprised at how quickly time seemed to pass before the start of the bombardment and the beginning of the end.

 

The next morning just as his memory told him, the big guns started firing in an attempt to break the enemy before the attack. Five nights later as Jay was heading back to the bunker after dinner looking forward to snatching a few hours of sleep before standing watch that night David snagged his arm and dragged him over to a small space just outside.

“What the hell Jay?” he demanded, eyes filled with clashing emotions, fear, worry, anger, hand tight on Jay’s arm.

“What do you mean?” Jay asked trying to shake David’s hand.

“This friction between you and Oliver.” David said glaring at Jay as if accusing Jay of being obtuse.

“It’s none of your business.” Jay snapped, wrenching his arm out of David’s grip and rubbing at the spot.

“It is when it’s affecting moral.” David retorted. “And I thought that I was your friend, which means I’m worried about both of you. I don’t want either of you dying because of an argument that you two were having.”

Jay sighed, “He’s mad at me because I haven’t told him my whole life story.”

David raised an eyebrow again and made a ‘go on’ gesture.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Jay snapped, “It’s private, personal and you’ll treat me differently.”

“I won’t.” David insisted and Jay snorted.

“That’s what I thought Oliver would do.” He said bitterly, “And look at where that left me, with a best friend who won’t talk to me.”

“Fine,” David said sounding hurt, and Jay felt bad but he also knew that he wouldn’t be telling David anything more because it would open a can of worms he didn’t want to opened.

“I’m sorry David," he said, “I just don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’s fine,” David reiterated, although hurt still hung in his eyes. “Just see if you can fix whatever is broken between the two of you. I don’t like seeing the two of you fighting, you guys have been close from the beginning and seeing you two fight is just bad.”

“I’ll try,” Jay promised even though he wasn’t sure how to go about mending what had broken.

“Good,” David said with a nod, “I’m holding you to it. Now come on we’re getting more recruits from a unit that just lost the majority of its men in a bombardment.”

“They aren’t going to just toss raw recruits into the unit?” Jay asked following his friend back into the bunker.

“No, don’t ask me why.” David said wandering over to his bunk humming absently off key.

Jay sighed and looked around the tight quarters wondering how they would fit more bodies in the limited space. _I know why._ He thought, _maybe, at least. I don’t claim to know what is going through the minds of the higher ups._

Before he landed before the Great War, he hadn’t studied it as much as other wars and didn’t choose to study military history as much as the history of food. So while he had a sneaking idea of why they would be getting more men rather than bolstering the unit-there might be a whole unit waiting back at home that would come over, he wouldn’t voice it.

“Something major is about to happen.” A voice from the corner said and Jay met the empty green eyes of one of the others in the unit. When David made an enquiring noise while other heads popped up and bodies shifted towards the corner where the speaker sat, he continued.

“I heard one of the others talking.” He shrugged disinterestedly, even as the others looked at each other. The man struck a match and lit a cigarette as the words echoed around the room. While Jay had not started smoking yet -he could still imagine his parents disapproval even if it was blurred by time and distance he’d gotten used to the smell and watching other people smoke didn’t make him recoil in disgust.

“That would explain the bombardment,” one of the newer recruits mused, as far above there was the earth-shattering boom of an exploding shell.

“Trying to soften the enemy.” Another man agreed nodding.

“No really,” a third said dryly, raising a sandy-colored eyebrow sarcastically. “Here I thought they were just bombing for the hell of it.”

There was muffled snickered from around but the tension in the room racketed. “So they’re trying to fill up units, more man power for whatever they’re cooking up.” Jay said quietly, watching as the words sunk in.

“If they stopped sending us over the top and things stopped falling on us we’d have more men.” Someone else grumbled and there were quiet murmurs around the room. Jay felt the same, had felt the same from the beginning but he knew he would not do anything to change the situation until he was killed, severely wounded or the war ended because the men needed him. Before anyone else could speak, either in agreement or in a sharp rebuke against anything resembling a defeatist attitude Oliver entered followed by soldiers carrying their bags and everyone went dead quiet, dead eyes focused on the small cluster.

“All right, welcome to the bunker, put your things somewhere we’ll figure out sleeping arrangements later.” Oliver said gesturing around. “The lieutenant’ll be here in a few minutes to explain what’ll be happening.”

Jay stood and moved towards Oliver and attempted to catch his best friend’s eyes but Oliver refused to meet his own, physically turning to talk to one of the new men on his left. Jay sighed, suddenly bone tiered in a way he hadn’t felt before even in a war where bone-weary seemed to be the standard state of things, and rubbed a hand over his face attempting to ignore the way David’s eyes were boring into his body.

“Excuse me?” a timid, exhausted voice asked and Jay opened his eyes to see a vaguely familiar young face covered in dirt, mud and dried blood, with eyes that were to tiered and old for the face they rested in.

“Yes?” he asked warily.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but you wouldn’t happen to have gotten caught in a gas attack almost two weeks ago?”

“Kid,” Jay said slowly, “We’re in a war that uses gas as a method of attack regularly. What do you really want to know?”

The kid shifted nervously on his feet and rubbed his hand on his neck as he seemed to try and get his thoughts together. “It’s just that someone gave me some good advice after a gas attack, he spoke about eating an elephant and I’m pretty sure you’re him.”

Jay blinked in surprise as the memory of the encounter came back and he recognized the kid. He nodded offering a small, but genuine smile. “I remember you, glad you’re alive kid.”

The kid gave a grin so sunny it made Jay want to punch something or someone because Oliver used to smile that brilliantly but the war had stolen most of it, like it had attacked so many other smiles and now it would steal this kids smile one way or another.

“Thought so,” the kid said cheerfully, “Richard Lukas, it’s an honor to meet you again, and I’m glad to be able to serve next to you.”

A quick glance around the bunker told Jay that the others looked about as gob smacked as he felt. “Jay Barrett.” He said slowly, not sure exactly how to respond to the kid’s enthusiasm.

“Lieutenant’s here, attention.” Someone said and everyone instinctively snapped to attention.

“At ease men.” The lieutenant said looking pale and drawn, grief etched deep into his face. “I have just received our orders for tomorrow. The higher ups say this’ll be a huge push and will allow us to gain the ground we need.” 

Jay froze, blood draining from his face as he heard the news. He hadn’t forgotten that something was going to happen, it was hard to do with the guns pounding the earth on the other side of No-Man’s Land, but he had forgotten the other side of the attack, the amount of dead and how the sinking sensation that he wouldn’t live past the attack had started him telling Oliver some of his secrets. He hadn’t known he’d zoned out until someone

poked him in the side and he focused enough to realize everyone was saluting. He hastily threw his own hand up before sagging onto a nearby bunk even though it was not his. “Are you ok sir?” Richard asked nervously, “You don’t look good.”

Jay attempted to smile, but it came out wan and didn’t seem to comfort the kid. “I’ll be fine.” He said feeling a second pair of eyes bore into him and he looked up to find Oliver’s eyes sliding away. He took a deep breath, and put another slightly stronger on before suggesting. “Why don’t you go find out what your sleeping arrangements are going to be?” Richard hesitated but Jay shooed him on. _I’m going to die tomorrow_ he thought hysterically _There is no way my luck is going to last, not with the odds. I’m going to die with Oliver hating me and never knowing everything. I’m never going to see my family again._

“Are you absolutely sure you’re ok?” David’s voice asked shaking Jay partially out of his spiraling thoughts, coming over as Richard headed to where the others new arrivals had gathered. Jay laughed hysterically, attempting to keep it quiet so he wouldn’t disturb or worry the others but judging by the looks that were being sent in their direction he didn’t succeed.

“No,” Jay said quieter, “I’m going to die and go to my grave with Oliver hating me.”

David was quiet for a moment, his hazel eyes somber as he stared at Jay, mouth set in a neutral line before he said. “You aren’t going to die and you and Oliver are going to make up.”

Jay laughed again shaking his head in denial. “I’m not going to make it back.” He reiterated, not touching on the part of David’s reply.

He turned away from David’s concerned gaze and stood up on shaky legs, heading to his own bunk making a mental list of letters he needed to write. He quickly wrote letters to his family, going over what had happened to him, reminding them that he loved them and begging them to remember him fondly. _If you can look up Oliver Denem and see what happened to him I would appreciate it._ He wrote to his father. _He was my best friend and held my heart in his hands although he didn’t know that as I hid the truth of the extent of my feelings from him._ He also wrote to Oliver’s mother and father thanking them for everything they had done for him. _I will be forever grateful to you for welcoming me into your house._ He wrote. _If you could hold onto my journals for posterity I will be in your debt._ He ended the letter writing about how much Oliver’s friendship had meant to him closing with. _I would never have made it this far without him and without your support._ He also wrote to David, thanking the other man for his support, telling him how much it meant for him and wished him a long life. Finally, almost reluctantly he turned to the task of writing to Oliver. However, as he put his pencil to the paper, he froze unsure of what exactly he could write Oliver.

**June 30, 1916 The Bunker**

_Oliver,_

_If you are reading this, I’m dead and you survived. What a way to start a letter, I’m sorry for starting like that but I hope that you are at least willing to read a dead comrades last words despite the anger you are feeling towards me. I am sorry for not telling you the complete truth about my past, I had my reasons even if you won’t accept them. (At least at the time I thought they reasonable.) Now I’m dead and it really doesn’t matter what you read or know. However I ask that you burn this after you read it because I don’t want this knowledge affecting you and hindering you in anyway. My name is Jay Barrett, I was born June 21st 20XX. My father is Peter Barrett a historian, my mother is Kala Barrett a lawyer. I am the youngest of five children with three older sisters and an older brother. I have always wanted to become a historian with a focus on food. I am from the future. I don’t know how I went back in time only I tripped and hit my head, when I came to I was in 1910 in front of school and the school was expecting me. I was not robbed and I’m not an orphan, the school just thought I was and I went with it. It is true that I didn’t know anyone in this time as half of my family is still in India and I don’t know the history of my father’s side of the family only that it is working class Liverpool. I’m bi-lingual speaking English and Hindi and I’m a Hindu. I only pretended to pray in church so that I wouldn’t stand out but even now I direct my prayers to Lord Krishna asking Him to protect you and guide through this war unscathed. If you aren’t shocked yet, I have more to tell you and I swear by all that is holy I swear this is true. So now you know most of the secrets I’ve kept from you but here is one more thing : I love you, not platonically or like a brother but I love you like a man loves a woman. This is not something that is shocking to me because I have always known I was homosexual (it’s actually more complicated but don’t worry about it). I woke up one day knowing that you held my heart in your hands and I’ve never wanted it back. I swear I have never tried anything because consent is important and I didn’t want to disrupt our friendship. That is probably what you read that you commented on, I was writing my sister who wants to be a historian so she has my diary and can use it. However I didn’t want to get you in any trouble so I never mentioned it. (Although I’m sure Chandra will know as soon as she reads this because wer are the closest both in terms of age and the fact we both want to be historians.) However, now that I’m dead it doesn’t matter. I’ll die with my heart belonging to you and only caring that I died with you angry at me. That will be my only regret, I can not say goodbye to my family because they are in the future and I have written farewell letters to them. I said good-bye to your parents and apart from you and David there are no ties to this time. Don’t blame yourself for getting me killed, I knew when I signed up that I would not come back. I knew what would happen in the war, I knew that it wouldn’t be a quick war, I knew that the trenches would be dug, that it would be hell. I studied in it school so I knew better than anyone what I was getting myself into. So don’t cry for me, stay alive and get home. Live your life and enjoy it fully, here I should say marry a nice girl and settle down but really find someone who makes you laugh (gender doesn’t matter) someone you can relax and let your guard down around. Find them, and settle down or keep moving, just try to be happy. May the gods guard you and keep you safe, may you have a long and happy life._

_Yours until the end of time and beyond,_

_Jay Barret_

Jay stared at the letters that lay on his bunk, his hand hurting from the amount of writing he’d done. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest and his eyes brimmed with tears that the writing had stirred up. With shaking hands he wrote one last thing, what he wanted to be done with his belongings. An added note next to Oliver’s name he wrote with a heavy heart and a prayer on his lips. _If Oliver does not make it, please burn his letter._

Then he gathered the letters, bundled the ones going back to England with a piece of dirty twine and left Oliver’s letter on top with his final note on top of that so that whoever would go through his belongings would have an easy time of it. After he was done David and Richard came over, David still looking worriedly at Jay even as he steered the younger man with a firm hand.

“What’s up?” Jay asked rubbing his eyes to clear the tears away and then massaging his face to hide his face to hide the fact he’d been crying.

“Richard wants to talk to you.” David said smiling gently, “So I’ve decided to help him talk to you.”

“I just didn’t want to bother you!” Richard protested and Jay laughed.

“Don’t worry kid, you won’t bother me. Now what did you want to talk about?”

The three spoke for a little while, gathering a large crowd by the end although Oliver hung back still not meeting Jay’s eyes. The conversation was light-hearted and joking, everyone steering clear of heavy topics and refusing to think about the next day and the carnage it would bring. Night came all entirely too quickly and with it sleep. Jay was surprised to find that it felt like he’d only just closed his eyes when the whole barrack was being woken up.

Getting up, and grabbing his gear Jay found himself feeling almost resigned to his fate as well as determined to try and apologize to Oliver one more time before the battle. As he crossed to Oliver, Robert intercepted him face pale and eyes wide with terror.

“Kid,” he said, “Follow me but keep pushing forward if something happens to me. If it does follow David, he’ll know what to do.”

He paused then added, “Don’t forget to breathe.”

“If I get hit?” Robert asked, trying to sound brave. “Get down, see if you can stop the bleeding but don’t move. Don’t try laying cover for us either you’ll just hurt us.”

“Come on kid,” David said, Jay’s nickname for Robert falling easily from his lips, gently steering the terrified boy towards the rest of the unit giving Jay a significant look.

“Ollie can we speak for a minute?” Jay asked quietly, snagging his friends sleeve to get his attention, hating how his small his voice sounded.

“What do you want?” Oliver snapped, glaring at Jay. The look in his friends eyes startled Jay and he dropped the cloth like he’d been burned. Whenever he and Oliver fought it could get bad but there was so much venom in Oliver’s eyes that he’d never seen before.

“Nothing,” Jay said quietly, closing his eyes for a few brief moments to try and block his friends angry look. “Never mind.”

He turned and left the bunker that had been his home for the past eight months, sparing a single prayer that Oliver lived and read his letter. David caught his eye as he exited but Jay shook his head, he’d tried to apologize but Oliver clearly didn’t want to hear it. He quietly resigned himself to dying without reconciling with Oliver and he didn’t want to drag David into the mess because David had other things to worry about such as the fact that they were about to go over the top. Jay took a deep breath and joined the other pale faced, tense men lining up in the trenches inhaling the food he was handed quickly not even tasting the food. David and Robert came over to him, Robert clutching his gun with a white knuckled grip and David looking concerned.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Jay told David quietly before fixing his gaze on Robert. “Kid, loosen your grip the gun won’t drop if you do and you’ll be saving your hands.”

“How can you be so calm?” Robert asked his voice slightly shrill.

“Because I know that worrying won’t help me at all.” Jay said quietly. “Either something will happen or it won’t and I will only waste energy worrying about something I have no control over.”

David was about to add something but before he could the lieutenant ordered everyone to line up and the rum was passed down the line.

“Here we go,” Jay murmured, feeling oddly calm for once staring at the wide desolate expanse of No-Man’s Land stretching up slightly above him almost apathetically. It was quiet for the first time in five days, but Jay only knew it would last a moment. He accepted the rum and took a long drink, the liquid burning as it slid down his throat before handing it to Robert and turning to David.

“I wrote Oliver a letter.” He said in an undertone, grabbing his own gun in preparation for going over. “Will you give it to him?”

“You seriously only think you’re going to die.” David hissed wide-eyed and Jay nodded once.

“Will you?” he asked quietly and instantly.

“I will,” David promised, eyes grim.

“I promise to get it to Oliver if you don’t make it.” Jay nodded, barely keeping the sigh of relief from escaping his lips.

“Thanks David.” He said giving his friend a weak smile. “Stay safe.”

 

Seven-thirty on the dot and a series of shrill whistles pierced the still quiet air.

 

“That’s the signal.” Jay said grimly offer a mental prayer to Kali as he started up the wood ladder and over the top of the trench, flanked on his right, left and behind by the others in his unit. Instantly the air was filled with bullets singing their deadly song, the rat-a-tat-tat of machine guns firing, shouts and howls of wounded men, the sounds of grenades exploding. Dirt flew up in black clouds as shells landed, momentarily shielding the approaching men from the enemies’ eyes. Acrid smoke invaded his nose and his focus narrowed sharply to just in front of him, the screams of wounded and dying men were muted, replaced with the sound of his breathing and his pulse pounding in his ears.

Suddenly his left leg became engulfed in pain startling him out of his daze as he tumbled into a shell hole he found himself staring at his heavily bleeding leg. “Jay!” he heard someone shout voice carrying desperately over the chaos of war, as dirt and rocks tumbled down accompanying a wild-eyed Oliver. Jay hissed in pain as the rocks hit him and landed on his wounded leg.

“Oliver,” he whispered, pain robbing his voice of most of its strength.

“You’re hit.” Oliver said quietly, hand already reaching for the small med kit that they all carried.

“I’ll be fine,” Jay lied, already feeling light headed, moaning in pain as Oliver brushed the rocks and debris from the wound.

“Jay,” Oliver whispered voice full of horror and sorrow.

“What?” Jay asked. “Just look.” Jay looked down and felt his mind go blank with shock, his knee looked completely shredded and the wound was still bleeding freely. “

Oh,” he whispered, his voice convulsing a little in pain. Oliver quickly took out a bandage and wrapped it with shaking hand around the wound although he tried to be gentle. “Don’t die on me.” Oliver hissed as Jay closed his eyes. “Please don’t die on me.” He sounded like he was begging but he also sounded far away and his voice echoed.

Jay struggled to open his eyes to look at Oliver one last time before he died, however what he saw was a silver mist filling the shell hole, twisting around Oliver’s dirty, bloody tear-stained face, Oliver must have put his bloody hands on his face at some point he thought distractedly. He lifted his right hand and shaking with effort cupped Oliver’s cheek, pressing fingers to his lips. He wanted to tell Oliver that touching the blood without protection was unsafe, that he would be ok, that he knew he would die today but instead he simply whispered.

“Don’t cry.” Even as Oliver tried to lower his arm, he hung on, desperate to feel Oliver one last time.

“Save your strength.” Oliver said brokenly, lips brushing Jay’s fingers.

“Don’t cry.” Jay repeated. “I always knew I was going to die and to die by your side is more than I could hope for.”

He heard something off in the distance, something that sounded a lot like sirens but he was quickly losing his last strength and the last bit of his consciousness so he couldn’t bring himself to care. The last thing he said before darkness claimed him was. “I love you.”

 

Oliver watched in horror as his best friend’s arm went limp dropping to his side eyes shutting. He scrambled to pick up Jay’s arm again, fingers scrambling for a pulse and signed in relief when he felt it. It was faint, oh so nerve wracking faint but it was there. A strange sound grew louder until it was nearly deafening and Oliver tensed as a pair of faces peered down at him and Jay. One of them swore in what was clearly French and Oliver wracked his brain for the right phrase before saying desperately.

 

“Please help him.”


End file.
